


One Fine Afternoon

by anthroxagorus



Category: DCU, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, bros being bros, even the author ships them i mean COME ON, just your basic shota, yo i ship this so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthroxagorus/pseuds/anthroxagorus
Summary: Adventures of the Super Sonsin masturbating each other
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Kudos: 34





	One Fine Afternoon

They're playing video games one day when Damian grabs at Jon's crotch mid-Mario Kart race, and grins at the flush of embarrassment, the fact Jon's character loses his lead and glides right off Rainbow Road. Immediately, Jon's dick stands to attention, tents through his shorts, and Damian wants to do it again. As soon as Jon has the lead again, he grabs for him, meeting a firm flesh rod.

"Cut it out!" Jon whines at the same time his legs spill open. _His_ has never felt that hard - fascinating. He hasn't removed his hand and Jon's flushed gaze meets his, questioning at this new game.

Damian has no idea why everyone is so obsessed with sex, but clearly they are. He sees it in nearly every film, even alluded to in children's films, his father is completely obsessed with it (and Catwoman), and his bat-brothers won't shut up about it. _You'll understand it when you're older_ , they tease. What could there possibly be to understand?

So Damian watches pornography and scrutinizes the breasts of the women, whether they're real or fake (a game his brothers play) and is trying to decide if they're just all fake, down to the horrible grunts and moans. He has multiple tabs open and a mild, sore feeling at his crotch. 

Damian even tries to "rub one out" as he's heard people say, but it, too, is boring. He manages getting into a semi-hard state after 20 minutes of pumping away on his dick, thick with lotion, but his arm gets tired and he gives up. No really, what is he supposed to get?

And then there's Jonathan Kent, his associate, the son of his father's friend, so perhaps, someone he considers to be on friendly terms with. Whatever. Who cares. Jon's always staring at him, scratching and adjusting his crotch, and staring at him all over again and Damian has to wonder if even this kid "gets it."

Back to the present, Damian remembers vaguely the bedroom door is closed, preemptively because their game can get loud and it annoys Jon's mother. The race music continues in the background.

"Do you want me to stop?" Damian asks, smirking. He gives Jon a squeeze that elicits a sharp intake of breath. Fascinating. Still, he hasn't said anything.

"Unbutton your pants, will you?" Damian says and watches as Jon obeys. There it is, Jon's dick. Pale, plump, and shiny. Damian holds it again and strokes him, a slow pet as he tries to find a comfortable position for this angle. Such an angle moves him closer to his friend and Jon settles back against his chest, tips his head back.

Damian watches his chest rising and falling with each of his own lazy strokes, Jon's tongue flickering over his wet lips, soft whines he seems to be suppressing. Damian has no choice but to pump his hand faster in order to get Jon vocal. He wants to hear him.

Jon's hand lands on his thigh and makes him jump as his fingers trail up, try to seek him out. "Let me..." Jon mumbles and then, with some difficulty, his hand is gripped around Damian's dick and jerking up and down.

Damian's hand has stopped, feeling Jon on him, making him hard like himself, and it's not until Jon nudges against him that he remembers to move again. 

_Oh_ , Damian thinks, _it's... nice when someone else's hand is doing it_. Damian bends over Jon's shoulder and bites hard on his lip, but all his feeling has centered on his dick and his own hand has taken a desperate, frantic pace. He can hear Jon's groans, smell the salt of their sweat.

Jon's entire back arches suddenly as he spurts sticky webs of cum, on Damian's hand and, impressively, onto the television, but Jon doesn't let up, jerking his hand up and down on Damian until he feels it, _gets it_ , the shock of orgasm. His balls tighten, he releases his own stream of cum all the while gripping Jon's leg for support. 

It takes several minutes of calming his breathing before he releases his death grip. Jon turns on him and Damian is too drained to fix his face, to smirk or otherwise appear blank. He has no idea what his face is doing. Jon, though, is a canvas of feeling, wide-eyed, red-faced, and smiling but confused. Nervous, satiated, pleased, searching.

"What?" Damian asks, finally.

Jon breaks into a grin, and shakes his head at him. Instead, he locates a box of tissues, cleans himself up and, when Damian is similarly wiped down, passes him his controller again. The used tissues get pushed under the bed and Damian tries not to think too much on that.

Somehow Jon's racer (Toad) had drifted a place before Damian's Bowser. Jon starts another round, picks the same racer, and then settles back against Damian's chest, waiting for Damian to accept his side of the screen. 

With a sigh, Damian has to snake an arm around the obstacle to properly grip his controller, but he supposes it's not too difficult. Comfortable, even. His chin drops to the crook of Jon's neck. 

The race starts again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Heeeey this was actually going to be a lot more, uh, noncon, but it came out sweeter, because I fucking cherish them I guess. Kind of want to keep writing them exploring each other.


End file.
